


The gory fate of Nakip's daughters

by kiddypool



Category: Yasamayanlar | Immortals (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Middle Ages, Multi, Non-Consensual, Same Performer in Different Roles, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 11:36:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18619843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiddypool/pseuds/kiddypool
Summary: A little jumbled AU in the universe of Yasamayanlar, in a middle aged setting in Istanbul around 1650, swapping around various characters in their roles, where Melisa may not be a vampire, Suat may not be a journalist, Nakip may not be a capitain of industry, but Numel and Dmitry are still both definitely 2 psychopaths with a different style, and hopefully all turns close enough to the TV show.





	The gory fate of Nakip's daughters

Numel walked briskly to the end of the corridor, thunderous look flashing from under his wild mop of hair, shoulders tense, ready for a fight, boots clanking angrily on the stone tiles, black embroidered Caftan in the style of janissaries adding to his martial outfit, with the leather collar up to his jaw, scraping on the curls of his beard.

He grabbed the burnished golden handles of the double door and pushed wide open : the room was a clusterfuck of death and gore. 

The tableau of death made a strong contrast to the backdrop view from the balcony, peaceful grey frames of Istanbul towers and minarets quietly emerging into the promise of down, birds chipping, hagglers opening shop in markets, street food vendors calling for breakfast, etcetera. But Numel was in no mood for any of that, blind rage now compounded by the familiar smell of iron in his nostrils.

In the middle of the room was a large poster bed, the blue woolen sheets and grey silk coverlets drenched in blood, the woven ornate draperies and the pillows all sullied like a frame by frame replay of each and every move from last night protagonists. 

Dmitry was naked in the middle of it, save for the pendant, sitting relaxed with his back to the bedframe, comfortably padded with dark red wool with embroidered golden chinese stylized birds. He was calmly watching him, as he always did, master poker face on, calculating blue eyes that saw everything. Yeah, he had been expecting him all right. Numel growled, retribution flashing in his eyes, full set of vampire teeth showing under the beard. 

One of the girls was dead, young body cold in opulent textiles, face down, her hand still on Dmitry’s body in a swath of congealing blood, naked except for soiled underwear, her slender back and buttocks now slick with red and black, blond locks matted with the stuff. Even though her face was down, Numel could identify Marisa, the slutty slant of her mouth, heavy cosmetics on her fixed eyelids, provocative and unbecoming of the second daughter of rich, corrupt Merchant Nakip, the flashy earrings she liked to parade around, now darkened and ugly. 

The other girl had instantly jumped and withdrawn against the opposite side of the bed, bundled in the corner, hiding herself in the grey silk as if she could disappear into the bedpost, become one with the fairies and goddesses wrought artfully into the wooden pillar. Deep brown watchful eyes, dark brown hair, sensual lips, frail body frame. 

Suat ! First daughter of Nakip. The reasonable one. Honnest. Principled, Objective Suat. 

She also had streaks of blood on her cheeks and breasts, little hands clutching the coverlet to cover herself. She was alert and terrified, watching him warily. She was alive. There was no mistaking what had happened.

Numel howled his rage. 

He could not find words. He only hissed at her first, lips upturned in a display of disgust. The girl tried to make herself even smaller, her eyes cast down, hiding under her long hair, a little kitten pulling silk sheets over her shame in the corner of the bed. She was such an insignificant, cold shell of a thing now. 

Numel had a flash memory of her on the fortress wall, in a simple white dress, smiling, long shiny locks of hair free in the wind, the sun warming her skin. She had been a beacon, her light speaking to Numel of a different future then, speaking of getting away from his murky past, of redemption, of finally getting cleansed of his burden, and of a hope for a different relationship between Vampires and Humans. He had wanted to give her everything, then.

"You said !!! … You !... bringing change, justice!…No more vampire assassins. No more Guild heavy hand ! Peace ! For all of Istanbul...” 

He wanted to cuss at her, curse her to hell, but word just came in a jumble of inarticulate rage. 

“and you said... you said you wanted MY HELP ? " Disbelief was fighting choking anger in his voice. 

"But then” came Dmitry’s voice, clear and slow, enunciating, “then, i also talked to Suat. She explained to me what she had discovered in her investigation. In order to help her, I told her all she needed to know about her own father Nakip, his prominent role in Istanbul, in the Guild, and his link to us, the modest vampires who have been handling his dirty business since the down of ages. And I offered Suat to leave unharmed. Why was it Suat ? 

\- Because nobody would believe me anyway

Numel : why didn’t you leave then ?

\- She would have left. Except that when she was about to leave, I offered her a deal. What was it, Suat ?

Suat, shaking : My sister. If I brought my sister to Dmitry, I would never have to think about death again. 

There was a long pause. Numel stood frozen for a minute. Dmitry rolled his eyes.

\- Of course, Suat here didn’t accept straight away. She had a crisis of conscience. She pondered the morals of this proposal. Because she is Honnest, Principled, Objective. because she is a Good Human. So I reminded Suat here of a simple fact. Something her kind easily forgets but also never quite accepted to live with. What was it Suat?”

Dmitri raised his hand expectantly. She looked at him nervously. “Don’t be shy” he said, with a petulant look, like he was the reasonable one. She slowly brought up her little hand to slide into his. 

She mumbled: “I will get old, and i will die” in a small, trembling voice. 

Dmitry made an open hand gesture like it proved his point.

\- So there we were, with the daughter of the Guild second in command willing to join our ranks. And then, she brought me her sister. 

Dmitry was looking at Numel with his blue, blue eyes, the shadow of a smile like a knife on his face, waiting. 

Numel’s eyes flashed briefly between Suat and Dmitry. He traced the swipes of blood all over Dmitry’s body, the proof of dodgy pleasure in the flaky path of young agile fingers drenched in blood, a story of bodies learning of each other, where two pairs of inexperienced girly hands had experienced in giving and taking pleasure last night with a fraudulous shell of a human, an ancient beast, along with giving up their lives, and this thought fueled his anger even more. 

Faking relaxation and boredom, Dmitry let his left leg fall to the side, uncovering himself further under Numel’s glare. 

Numel’s rage turned calculating. “You want to know what this is really about, little girl ?”

Numel moved so fast it felt like he was gliding above ground, reaching Dmitry in the blink of an eye, hand flashing like a snake to grab a handful of braided hair, then he started to lift Dmitry wholly out of bed with just one arm, strong as a bull, teeth out, eyes flashing. Dmitry only laughed, not resisting, hands flaying to keep up, entirely naked save for the pendant. 

Numel shoved him into the wall against a pile of unidentified traveling lacquered boxes. He kept Dmitri there for a moment, holding him down angrily, face smashed in the wall, bent in half. Dmitry didn’t move, only holding out his right hand in an appeasing move, waiting. The pendant clicked against the wall. 

Numel gave a look at Suat. She was frozen on the spot, staring wide-eyed. Numel said “You think this is a fairy tale ? You think you can be both living and immortal ? We are the opposite of living, Suat. We feel no love, no joy, no passion, we have no expectations, we are only living corpses with an endless thirst. You didn’t gain anything, you just gave it all away. Welcome to the word of the non-living, Suat”.

All the while he was undressing his sash, letting his trousers fall on his thighs. He took himself in hand, and brought himself to hardness with a few strokes. Then he positioned himself at Dmitri's entrance, bunched up all his strength in his back and thighs and pushed hard. There was no preparation, no lubricant. He breached him in one stroke, tearing the muscle of his anus on the way. Dmitri howled and contorted, as blood started flowing between his thighs. 

So that finally went through his unflappable cool, Numel thought from his cold place of rage. 

Dmitri twisted his neck and gave him a shocked look. Numel just lifted one boot on a box for support, pushed Dmitry’s head back down, and started plundering him at a punishing pace, with little regard for his balance. Dmitry flayed for support amidst falling boxes, both hands grabbing at the wall to keep himself upright, white knuckles digging in the brick wall. But Numel kept going, riding Dmitry fast, not letting him any second to collect himself from the pain. Dmitri was still obviously reeling from it, teeth clenched trying to contain brief gasps of pain, hiding his face into his tense shoulder.

Then Numel snaked a hand between Dmitry shaking thighs, fingers running up through the blood, to the place where he was taking him, to touch the rip he had torn through his maker. The flesh was already knitting itself back together. Dmitry let out a whine. Was he ashamed? Or ashamed of feeling pleasure? Numel was starting to feel better, and he was having some sort of an epiphany regarding Dmitry’s real desires under the bullshit of his cool exterior. It certainly felt right to have him spread under him. He brought back his hand up to lick the blood. After that there was no more sound in the room except wet slaps and breathes. 

He kept looking at Suat while pounding into Dmitry. The girl couldn’t move, just watching with wide eyes, still frozen, terrified, in the corner of the bed , apparently he was getting his point across with her too. 

Numel cooled down a bit. He changed his rhythm slowing down for longer powerful thrusts that looked less like a fight and more like sex. He started caressing Dmitry’s bent body, painting more masculine new handprints over the girls old strokes. His hand moved idly over his back, his buttocks, his flanks, the well defined muscles in his belly, his chest, over his nipples, his vulnerable neck, and Dmitri started to relax under his touch. 

And the girl watched the change, incredulous, with her large brown eyes, mesmerized, and she could see…

Dmitry’s shoulders slumped minutely, grunts of pain became exhales of pleasure. The blood has stopped flowing but the inside of his thighs was still a sticky mess. He balanced himself with his left hand on the wall, freeing his right hand to seek contact from Numel, reassurance, settling to rest on Numel's hip. He was starting to participate, small tentative push backs in matching rhythm to Numel’s thrusts. Numel passed his wandering hand down his belly to find him half erect and encouraged him with fingers on his dick, just a light touch of two digits, getting a whine and a sigh in return. Dmitry was putty in his hand now, tame, moving with Numel, letting himself be manipulated, a warm body pliant for Numel’s pleasure.

As Dmitry turned his face from under Numel’s grip to seek eye contact with him, she could see he was wrecked : a kaleidoscope of all the emotions she had never seen on Dmitry : pleasure, desire, but more than that, trust, loyalty, … pleading hope, devotion and submission. And Numel didn’t care. Merciless, Numel grabbed Dmitry’s hips, speeding up to finish himself off. He broke eye contact with the girl, she was not important anymore. As he came, his head whipped to the ceiling, wild curly hair all around, grimace showing teeth in his beard, blood on his lips. He let out a long satisfied grunt as he came inside Dmitry. Then he withdrew quickly and let Dmitri fall down in a heap amongst the boxes, his ass and thighs bloody and his dick leaking.

Numel exhaled deeply, fixed the lapel of his Caftan over his beard casually, like nothing happened, and turned to leave, slamming the double doors behind him. 

Outside the sun was rising up on Istanbul towers and minarets. The slow rhythmic chant of the Muezzin could be heard in the distance. 

Through the doors Numel could hear the call of Dmitry, turning from disbelief to impatience. 

Numel ?

Numel !!

But Numel never turned back.


End file.
